


(a long time ago) we used to be friends

by rockinhamburger



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Childhood Friends, Magic, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-05-16
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24082225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockinhamburger/pseuds/rockinhamburger
Summary: David gets ready for school, already concocting a plan. He is not going to pass yet another birthday with only his romcoms and Patrick (and Patrick’s empathetic eyes) to mark the event of his 13th birthday.A remix AU of13 going on 30.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 79
Kudos: 219
Collections: Reel Schitt's Creek Prompt Fest





	(a long time ago) we used to be friends

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [Reel_Schitts_Creek](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Reel_Schitts_Creek) collection. 



> I'll keep it short. Just a couple logistical things: David and Patrick are the same age in this fic, and I've shortened the age difference between David and Alexis to just a few years. Title is from We Used To Be Friends by The Dandy Warhols.
> 
> I must express the utmost gratitude for my beta reader, **musictoyourlips** , without whom I would not have completed this. She provided so many integral scenes and moments - she probably deserves a cowriting credit. She's honestly such a champion, who also gently nudges when a paragraph just needs more. You contributed so much to the planning, writing, and editing phases of this fic - I don't even know how to adequately thank you. With all my heart, thank you for all of the support and encouragement and the little pushes I needed <3

David watches his parents slink into the car as the driver heaves their suitcases into the trunk and gets into the front seat to escort them to the airport. He tries to tamp down on the simmering angry-sad-frustrated emotion but is not successful.

They’ve forgotten his birthday. Their trip to the Maldives is obviously more of a pressing concern. And with Alexis visiting Kirsten Dunst at her family’s vacation home for a few weeks, David’s entire family is missing his birthday. It’s not the first time.

David gets ready for school, already concocting a plan. He is not going to pass yet another birthday with only his romcoms and Patrick (and Patrick’s empathetic eyes) to mark the event of his 13th birthday.

Patrick is David’s best friend. They met at the park when they were 6, after Adelina forced David to go outside, cutting off all complaints about dirt and bugs with the promise of her tres leches cake, David’s favourite. Patrick found a worm on the playground and brought it over to David to show him, and David promptly shrieked and bolted away. Patrick apologized and brought it back to safe territory, and then Patrick gave David the chocolate bar his mom had packed to make up for it. All was forgiven.

David and Patrick have been inseparable ever since. They spend every weekend at each other’s houses, playing board games and _Super Mario_. Patrick taught David how to ride a bike when they were 8, so they often bike down to the corner store for 5 cent candies and race each other along the dead end on Patrick’s street. David makes Patrick the spectator for his fashion shows and Patrick makes David throw around a baseball with him. David’s been invited to join Brewer Family Vacations, and Patrick attends all the fancy parties David’s parents throw.

The Brewers are so kind and sweet that as David’s come to know them over the years, he finds he’s jealous sometimes of what Patrick has with them. When he sees how different they are to his own family, he can’t help marvelling at the normal conversations they have at the table, like a sitcom family. It’s especially fascinating when family meals are so rare at his own house and often derailed by some kind of drama partway through.

David knows exactly how Patrick will react to the news that his parents have yet again forgotten his birthday. Patrick will convince his parents to have a little celebration at their house, and he’ll make sure David has a good time. Which is exactly why he doesn’t tell Patrick what’s happened or about his plan. He can’t take another sympathy gesture. The idea makes him itchy.

When the doorbell rings shortly before the scheduled hour of his party, David’s stomach lurches and he scales the stairs at a slightly dangerous pace to answer the door before Adelina.

It’s just Patrick, though.

“Oh, hi,” he says, stepping away to let Patrick inside. It’s not that he isn’t happy to see Patrick. He just thought it would be… 

“Hi yourself. Sorry to disappoint,” Patrick says wryly. “Happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” David replies distractedly. “Come on, I just finished setting up, but I need help moving the food table.”

Patrick follows him upstairs and into the recreation room where the party is set up. After they’ve moved the table, Patrick observes, “So I’m getting that you’re expecting some others?”

“Mm, yes, the Six Chicks are coming.” David plays with the dark tablecloth, trying to straighten it out even though it’s already pretty straight.

Patrick groans. “Ugh, really, David? They’re the worst.”

“No, they’re not,” David says, but he doesn’t sound that convicted about it.

The truth is, the Six Chicks _are_ the worst. They’re snobby and mean, and they’re often at the parties David’s parents host, looking down their noses and judging everything. Patrick and David have spent many a fancy party making fun of the Six Chicks. But they’re popular and are the key to David getting a bit more clout before he goes on to high school.

This is a crucial period where he can actually get on track to achieving his goal, which is to be “thirty, flirty, and thriving,” as he read last month in _Cosmo_. It’s become something of a mantra. The Six Chicks are part of that plan.

Patrick piles a plate with food and David follows suit, and they both sit on the sofa in front of the television, which is playing _Sixteen Candles_.

Patrick holds out a mozzarella stick and David laughs and taps it with his own. It’s one of their best friend things and it’s also their favourite food.

“I’m surprised they agreed to come,” Patrick says around a mouthful of chips after a few minutes. “They’re pretty… exclusive, aren’t they?”

“Well, I might’ve reminded them about the pool and the in-home theatre,” David admits, and then adds, insides squirming, “And I… might’ve also agreed to do their homework.” 

Patrick laughs, voice thick from eating. “David, you don't even do _your_ homework."

David grins. "I didn't tell them the homework would be correct."

Patrick laughs again. But his expression sobers quickly. “But come on, David. They’re terrible. Why do you even care what they think of you?”

“I don’t know, Patrick,” David says tightly, “maybe it’s because you’re my only friend? Everyone just tolerates me because of the money, and I’m not in a bunch of the cliques at school like you are at yours. Everyone loves you.” Patrick’s brows knit in empathy at this, and David shakes his head. That’s exactly what he doesn’t want! “Whatever, it’s fine. I don’t care what they think of me, but they’re very useful. If I can get in with them, then it’ll get me on-track for my future.”

“Your future?” Patrick repeats, one eyebrow arched quite skeptically.

“You know, to be thirty, flirty, and thriving,” David explains.

“Oh, that,” Patrick says, shaking his head amusedly. “Well, we gotta celebrate thirteen before you hit thirty, so why don’t I give you your present?”

“Present?” David preens, forgetting the previous topic immediately. He makes grabbyhands, and Patrick chuckles and goes to get it where he set it down earlier to help move the table. Patrick hands him a dark blue gift bag with light blue tissue paper poking out.

“Thank you!” David says. He takes the tissue paper out and sees two objects inside. He pulls out the larger one. It’s a framed child’s drawing. He looks up at Patrick, confused. “What’s this?”

Patrick’s smiling, but there’s something extra in the smile that David can’t name. Patrick rubs the back of his neck. “Um, it’s a drawing I made the day we met. At the park? That’s…” Patrick clears his throat. “That’s us on the swings. Do you remember?”

“Of course.” David examines it more carefully with this context. He can see now how the squiggles are swings and how the figures are the two of them. He laughs and moves closer to point at something in the drawing. “Hey, is that the horrible worm you tried to give me? Your first ever gift for me?”

Patrick laughs, and his smile is so huge it makes David smile too. “I guess it made a strong impression.”

David strokes over the frame. “This is a very solid frame.”

Patrick smiles. “Thank you. I’m learning. You’ve made your feelings about frames very clear.”

“I have,” David agrees. “Thank you. This is adorable.”

Patrick pokes the gift bag beside David’s leg. “There’s one more thing.”

“Oooh,” David coos. Inside, he finds a small pouch labelled Wishing Dust. He looks up, blinking.

Patrick smiles. “Figured you could wish for that Valentino sweater you’ve been talking about every five minutes.”

David is charmed, even though Patrick is definitely making fun of him. “Maybe I’ll wish for you to wear something besides your daily uniform of generic t-shirts and basketball shorts.”

Patrick mockingly clutches his chest like David has wounded him deeply. David rolls his eyes and checks his watch. Where are the Six Chicks? David ignores the swoop of dread in his stomach and they settle in to watch the movie, Patrick stealing David’s popcorn and David retaliating by taking all of his Cheetos.

Halfway through the movie, David’s stomach is in knots. It’s been over an hour now. It’s not just the Six Chicks, either. He invited other people in his class, and no one’s here yet.

By the time the credits are rolling, David is mortified. He’s been stood up.

David gets up on unsteady legs and just sort of stands there, unable to move.

“David?” Patrick says, his head angled to look up at him. He has those empathetic eyes on again, and David cannot handle it.

“I’m going to bed.”

“David, it’s 4:00. Come on, let’s go swimming or something. Forget about them; they’re the worst, remember?”

“That’s easy for you to say!” David snaps. “Have you ever been stood up at your own birthday party? Or had your parents literally forget about it?”

Patrick jumps to his feet, his hands migrating to David’s shoulders. “Hey, I’m so sorry, David. Why don’t you come over to my place for dinner? We can order pizza,” he says, so sweetly. These words combined with the shoulder touch are a patented Patrick move when he’s trying to calm David down or comfort him, but it all grates on David’s last nerve.

“ _Leave me alone, Patrick_ ,” David says savagely, pulling away. Patick’s mouth drops open. David looks away. “I don’t need you, okay? I’m fine on my own.”

With that, David whirls away and storms up to his room where he crawls into bed, finally letting the disappointment and humiliation out in a torrent of tears he hates. When he hears a knock at the door and Patrick’s voice calling his name through the door, David pulls the blanket up over his head.

He doesn’t want to be thirteen. He wants to be an adult who’s already figured everything out. He doesn’t want to be a dumb kid, a victim of people’s judgement and mockery. He doesn’t want to be a joke. He shouldn’t be here crying; he’s better than all of them.

When Patrick finally gives up, David decides to head back to the party room for some shame eating. But when he opens the door, something propped against it falls near his feet and he looks down to find the gift bag with the presents Patrick gave him. He picks it up, and the visual reminder of Patrick being the only person who seems to care about him causes an incredible storm of anger to strike. His life is one of supposedly lavish richness, with all the money and _stuff_ he could possibly want. And yet, it’s clear there’s so much missing. There’s only one person he can really count on.

He tosses the bag inside his wardrobe where it lands with a heavy thunk. Then he remembers the Wishing Dust, and he takes it out. David brings it over to the bed and rips it open, swearing colourfully when some of it falls out onto his blanket. He swipes at it to get it off the bed and wishes he was thirty, flirty, and thriving. When nothing happens, David scoffs and puts the packet inside his bedside table.

Even though it didn’t work (why did he think it would?), David stares up at his ceiling and repeats his mantra out loud. “I want to be thirty, flirty, and thriving.” He falls asleep with the words in his head and heart, wishing to be anywhere but in this utter loneliness.

-

When David wakes up, his eyes land on the ceiling above him, which is nothing at all like the one he fell asleep staring at. The colour is wrong, and the height of the ceiling is wrong, too. He closes his eyes and opens them again but there’s no change, and as his eyes take in the rest of the room it’s clear he is not in his bedroom.

And then David sees that he is lying in bed with someone, a man who is 100%, no doubt about it, completely naked. David throws himself out of the bed and runs from the room, quickly finding a bathroom which he bursts into and slams the door in his panic.

He looks at himself in the mirror and grips onto the counter to hold himself upright as a wave of dizziness hits him where he stands, gaping at himself. His reflection shows not his 13-year-old self, but a grown man. He drags his hands over his face, where he has _stubble_ , and then slides his fingers up into dark black hair. His nose looks different, too! Is this what he would look like if his parents would finally let him get that nose job? Patrick will be disappointed; he rolls his eyes every time David brings it up and asks, “Why would you want to see a complete stranger when you look in the mirror?”

Patrick’s gonna get such a kick out of this dream when David tells him about it. He wishes he could take a picture to show Patrick how good he would look with a new nose.

David flushes abruptly as his gaze falls lower and he realizes he is also naked, and that his--

David clenches his eyes shut. This is a dream. He’s dreaming that he’s older… in his 20s or 30s? Oh, maybe David’s dreaming that he’s thirty, flirting, and thriving!

That’s it. He just had too many snacks yesterday. All those pepperettes.

The door to the bathroom opens. “David?” It’s the naked man, except he’s wearing underwear now. David yelps and steps back far enough away that he hits the blank wall of the bathroom. The man is very attractive, and he’s grinning at David. “Hey.”

“Hey,” David says automatically. “Um, who are you?”

“Very funny,” the man says with a smirk. “Listen, I gotta head out. Wish I could stay for a repeat performance of last night, especially since you’re officially the big 3-0, you old soul, but the wife awaits. Just gonna shower real quick.”

David’s jaw drops. He definitely doesn’t watch as this mysterious man, who is apparently married, steps out of his underwear and into the shower. As soon as the water starts, David bolts back into the bedroom.

David scans the room as his thoughts continue spiraling, and his eyes land on the bed, which is rumpled and where he apparently _had sex holy shit_. With a _married man_. In his dream, of course.

That man said he’s thirty, and now David’s starting to wonder… 

Why is he dreaming about being thirty and in a relationship with someone who’s married? Is that really what his subconscious wants? He actually pinches himself, like they always do in the movies, but that doesn’t seem to accomplish anything besides a stinging bicep.

David opens all the doors in his bedroom and boggles when he finds a mouth-watering walk-in closet with shelves upon shelves of clothing. David examines the items carefully, feeling strangely connected to this adult dream version of himself for the first time.

David gets dressed in a pair of silky boxer briefs that fit perfectly and examines himself in the mirror. He can’t help but feel sort of happy with what he sees. He’s not bad looking! He hopes he looks like this when he’s actually thirty!

Next, David pulls on a pair of jeans with rips in the knees and a dark shirt, then can’t resist pulling on the leather jacket he finds near the front of the closet. He looks at his reflection once again and blushes.

“David?”

David exits the closet nervously and finds his mysterious guest changing into clothes draped on a nearby chair. David averts his eyes and hums, “Mhmm?”

“I gotta head out, but I’ll text you. Maybe we can do another lunch quickie this week?”

“Text me?” David repeats blankly, trying to ignore the ‘lunch quickie thing’, and watches as the man goes to his side of the bed and picks up something off the table.

“Yeah… you know, on the cell phone you never put down,” the man jokes. The man, now fully dressed, smirks and waves the object at him, and David realizes suddenly that it’s a phone. A very sleek, futuristic phone.

That gives David pause. This is a very vivid dream...

The man laughs. “You okay, David? Still high from last night?” The man doesn’t sound like he’s all the way joking, though, which is distressing, but before David can start down another thought spiral the man is crossing around the bed to get to David who stiffens when the man kisses him. “Okay, now I really gotta go or I’m gonna get an earful.”

And then he’s pulling away and sauntering out of the room. David listens to his footsteps out in the hall and then hears a door open and close.

Genuine fear fills him as he realizes that this doesn’t feel like a dream at all. But then, what is this? He can’t actually have traveled to the future, can he?

David’s eyes flit around the room wildly as he looks for an escape from the rising panic, and they land on the bedside table where he finds what must be his own “cell phone” plugged into the wall. David picks it up and sits down on the bed, staring at the advanced technology in his hand.

After a few minutes of swiping and tapping, David starts to gain some understanding of how to use the phone. He quickly discovers what Married Man must have meant by ‘text you’. As he looks through his phone, he finds several birthday messages from yesterday. He scrolls through them, the names all a complete mystery to him, until he finds an exchange between himself and someone named Brad, who apparently texted him last night: _All clear. Heading over in an hour._ There’s a winking face image next to it.

This must be the mystery guy. So, David is dating a married man named Brad.

Is this really what thirty, flirty and thriving looks like?

He scrolls through the names in his directory; Patrick will know what to do. But as he looks through the contacts, Patrick is nowhere to be found. He can’t find his Mom or Dad either. The only name he recognizes is Alexis.

At that moment, he receives a message from someone named Lucy.

_What time are you coming in today? You have a meeting with Simon at 1:00 and a team meeting at 3:00._

David balks at this, a torrent of internal questions pressing in on him ( _Where do I live? Where do I work? What’s my job?_ ). God, what the hell is going on? This definitely isn’t a dream, but it can’t possibly be real.

If it _is_ real, what is he supposed to do?

David jumps and swears when he hears a knock on the front door. He hurries out into the hallway and to the front door, barely taking in the fact that he lives in a very nice, very expensive-looking apartment. He looks in the peephole, freaking out momentarily at the fact that he’s tall enough to reach it, and sees Alexis standing there.

David whips the door open at lightning speed and yanks her inside. “Oh my god. Thank god.” He pulls her into the living room where he drops heavily into the sofa, pulling her down with him.

“Ouch, David,” she snaps, pulling her arm free and rubbing it. “Oh my god, what is the matter with you?”

“I’m going crazy,” he says through his hands.

“Personally, I’d say we’re well past the point of you ‘going’ crazy.”

“Okay, shut up!” David says fiercely. “I’m serious. I went to sleep last night and I was 13 years old, and today I woke up… 30, I guess?”

Alexis stares at him for several long seconds, then laughs. “Must’ve been some party; sorry I had to bow out early. What’d you _take_ last night? You know acid always makes you lose your mind a little bit. I thought we, like, agreed you wouldn’t do that one anymore.”

“I’ve never taken acid!” David yelps. “Alexis, I swear to god. Yesterday was my 13th birthday, and no one showed up except for Patrick and--” David cuts himself off as it hits him. Patrick gave him that Wishing Dust! Did it work, somehow? “Oh my god! Patrick gave me this Wishing Dust for my birthday, and last night I wished I was ‘thirty, flirty, and thriving’ and then this happened!”

Alexis laughs again. “Definitely don’t repeat any of that, David. It’s, like, really embarrassing.”

“Okay! Forget it,” David says waspishly. He gets up and starts to move away, reeling. What the hell is he supposed to do? Live this life he’s found himself in, even though he’s completely lost?

“No, wait,” Alexis says, pulling him back down. “Okay. Let’s just _say_ you were somehow 13 yesterday. What’s the problem? You got to skip all those years, and like, trust me. You are better off. Your teens and early twenties were not great, David.”

“Oh my _god_ ,” David shouts. “What are you even doing here? It’s obviously not to help me in my time of crisis.”

“Um, David, I work at your company, remember? For, like, three months now?”

“Obviously I don’t,” David snipes.

Alexis eyes him in a baffled sort of way. “I… got arrested? And you gave me a job so I could meet my parole conditions?”

David gapes at her. “You got arrested?”

Alexis’ eyes widen. “You’re serious.”

“What did you do to get arrested? Did Mom and Dad kill you?”

“Okay, wow,” she says, looking more amazed by the second. “You are not this good an actor. We’re not close to Mom and Dad, David. You stopped talking to them as soon as you got your trust fund when you were 21. And… well, I’ve been busy so I haven’t seen them in a few months.” David gapes at her. The news that he hasn’t seen his parents since he was 21 has left him momentarily speechless. “You… you know all of this already,” Alexis says.

“I promise you I don’t,” David croaks out. “What did you do to get arrested?”

“Oh, um, nothing really. Just a little mistake, really,” Alexis says, twirling her hair around a finger. “Stavros… um, my boyfriend, he stashed his drugs in my car. It was a bit of a mixup, that’s all.”

David blinks rapidly as this all settles. “Okay, we’re going to come back to the fact that you apparently got arrested because your… wait, he’s _still_ your boyfriend?”

Alexis continues twirling her hair nervously. “Well, we’re technically on a break but, like, just for a little while. We agreed it was for the best since he’s, like, on the run or whatever.”

David shakes his head to get rid of the disbelief, but it’s a fruitless endeavour. “Oh my god, Alexis! And you were making fun of _me_ being crazy?” David continues shaking his head, hoping at some point he’ll get over his shock enough to get back on topic. “Okay, listen, I don’t know what all of this is, but I’m going to need your help to pull off being thirty. I know nothing about my life. For instance, where I live or where I work.”

“Oh, you still live in Toronto,” Alexis says eagerly, as if she’s grateful for the change of subject (David makes a note to revisit this topic later). “You started a fashion website… oh, five years ago now? It’s called _Poise_. You’re the creative director.”

“Oh my god, oh my god,” David babbles as Alexis’ pronouncements sink in. “Holy shit. Okay, wow.”

It occurs to him that Patrick would totally tease him about calling something _Poise_.

Speaking of Patrick...

“Um, hey, what about Patrick?” he asks hesitantly, fearing the worst. “I couldn’t find him in my phone.”

“Oh my god, that button! I completely forgot how close you guys were! You two were, like, so adorable. Remember that time I found you guys dressed up as pirates on the diving board?”

David flushes with embarrassment at the memory. They’d taken turns making each other ‘walk the plank.’

“Anyway,” David splutters. “You said ‘were.’ Are we not friends anymore?”

“You’re definitely not friends anymore, but I don’t know what happened,” she says, brow furrowed in thought. “I know he stopped coming around before you went to high school.”

“That’s crazy!” David says. “We’re best friends! What changed?” When Alexis just shrugs, David continues, “I have to find him, Alexis. How do I find him?”

“We can track him down later,” Alexis says distractedly, consumed in her phone. “But we have to get you to work right now. You have a meeting with Simon in an hour.”

“Who’s Simon?”

“Your lawyer. You… well, Other You said it was an important meeting, so we gotta get an Uber right now.”

“Uber?”

Alexis boggles at him. “Wow, this is like that time Mom was in a coma for 2 years on _Sunrise Bay_ and didn’t know how to use a Walkman to listen to her step-son’s secretly recorded attempted murder confession. Come on, I’ll explain on the way.”

Alexis explains Uber while they’re waiting for one, and then once they’re on their way, catches him up on his life, telling him about how he started _Poise_ when he was 25 and has made a name for himself in the last few years. She tells him that he’s been considering selling the website to a media conglomerate for a big payout. David listens to her talk about his life, and tries to imagine himself in it. It’s very difficult considering he hasn’t even grasped algebra yet (not that there’s much hope of that).

Alexis drags him around the _Poise_ offices when they arrive, muttering an undercurrent of explanations of who everyone is, from his secretary Lucy, to the fashion consultants and graphic designers, down to payroll and the Human Resources and IT departments. David quietly asks Alexis how many employees he has; she tells him around 50 and he nearly passes out.

Then she shows David his office. It’s gorgeous, and, like his wardrobe, helps him feel truly connected to his future self, his eye for aesthetics clearly on display.

“Okay, Simon should be here soon. I’ll leave you to it.”

“No, wait,” David gasps urgently. “I don’t know what I’m doing! You need to stay in case there’s something I don’t understand.”

Alexis boops him on the nose. “Alright, I’ll stay.”

Simon greets him politely and then opens up a file folder. “David, I’m going to be honest. There’s no way Vox Media will buy your company right now. I’ve been looking at the books, and at the rate you’re going, you’ll be bankrupt by next quarter. There are some business expenses you’ve written off that you’re not allowed to write off, so you’re going to need to fix that. You also owe back taxes, which I don’t think you can pay when it’s obvious you need to lay off half your staff and even then I’m not sure you’ll be able to manage.”

David gapes. There was a lot in there that his 13 year-old brain did not understand, but he knows what bankrupt means and that’s enough. “Oh my god,” he whispers, too panic-stricken to have an overly emotional reaction just yet.

“I really recommend hiring a business consultant to help with all of this,” Simon adds.

David nods numbly, and then Alexis takes over to thank Simon and escort him out. Then she returns and takes the chair Simon was sitting in. “Okay, um,” she says anxiously, “I didn’t expect that to be Simon’s news.”

“Oh my god,” David moans, terrified.

“It’s okay!” Alexis says frantically. “We can - we can hire a business consultant, like he said.”

“Yeah, but how am I going to pay for that? And now I have to fire half my staff? I don’t even know their names!”

“David, we will figure this out!” Alexis says, but her tone and her expression are not convincing at all.

David spends part of the afternoon with Alexis and Lucy at his side, working out who he needs to let go, and then the remainder of the afternoon calling people into his office to let them go.

“Yesterday I was 13, and today I’m firing employees! What kind of cruel magic dust makes _this_ my future?”

When he’s finally let go of the last employee on the list, David is wrung out. There were a lot of tears and white faces to deal with. Alexis tells him there’s a second party at a local ritzy bar to celebrate his 30th, but David begs her to cancel, too overwhelmed by the idea of pretending to be a competent adult right now.

He lets Alexis corral him into another Uber. Back at David’s apartment, Alexis orders dinner, and although David hasn’t eaten all day, he only manages to eat half a slice of pizza. Alexis is tapping away at her phone beside him when he remembers that he needs to find Patrick. He’ll be able to help David for sure. He’s always been able to help David, even when David is too embarrassed and too prideful to accept that help.

“How do I find Patrick, Alexis? The phone book?”

“Oh my god!” Alexis cries. “You don’t know about the modern internet. Okay, come here.”

Alexis gives him a crash course on the internet, starting with Google and email and how to find good news sources. ( _“I’ll save social media for your next lesson. It’s a lot.”_ ) Even just what she shows him is quite daunting.

Eventually, she helps him find Patrick Brewer on Google.

“Ooh, he lives in Toronto,” she says. “Oh my god, look, he works for a financial company. Maybe he can help you with all this!” She hands him his phone back.

“Oh my god, there’s a phone number!” David cries, clapping a hand over his mouth. “Oh god, what do I say? How do I explain this?”

“Why don’t you call and ask him to meet you?” Alexis suggests. “Then you can explain in person.”

David agrees and goes to his room to make the call, his heart pounding.

_You’ve reached Patrick Brewer. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as possible._

David hangs up. Patrick sounds both completely different than David remembers from just yesterday, and yet exactly the same. His voice is deeper, but there’s still that recognizable warmth and casual confidence to it.

David works up his nerve and tries again.

_You’ve reached Patrick Brewer. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as possible._

“Hi David? It’s Patrick,” David says. He panics and hangs up, then presses his lips together anxiously before calling back yet again.

_You’ve reached Patrick Brewer. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as possible._

“Hi _Patrick_ , it’s David,” he says, but immediately he’s babbling once more. “I - I think I called you David, and that - that’s not your name! Your name is Patrick. Which… you already know, obviously.”

David hangs up again, then throws himself on the bed and puts his face in one of the huge pillows. After a mini freak-out, David tries again.

_You’ve reached Patrick Brewer. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as possible._

“Hi, it’s David Rose. I’m calling because I’m in trouble, and I really need your help. Please call me back.”

David nods satisfyingly after that one, then slaps a palm over his face. He never left his phone number!

David calls back, then hangs up before the call can go to voicemail when he realizes he doesn’t know his phone number. He asks Alexis, and then comes back to his room to call for what will hopefully be the last time.

_You’ve reached Patrick Brewer. Please leave a message and I’ll call you back as soon as possible._

“Hi, sorry, me again. I forgot to leave my phone number.” David gives his phone number, then says, “Okay, ciao.”

Ciao!?

_Oh god._

Will Patrick even remember him? If he stopped talking to Patrick when he was a teenager, then it’s been almost 20 years at this point! But they were best friends, and he has to hope that means that he’ll at least be somewhat memorable.

Then again, will Patrick even want to help him? What happened all those years ago to make them stop talking, and was it bad enough that Patrick won’t want to help him now? Will Patrick even _want_ to talk to him?

Still embarrassed about the voicemails and incredibly nervous about how they will be received by 30-year-old Patrick, David returns to the living room for pizza. He’s suddenly ravenous.

When Alexis sees him, she says, “Wait a minute. David? If you literally skipped to age 30, you’ve missed, like, all of pop culture for the last 20 years. You’re gonna die. There’s so much good stuff.”

David gasps. “What about Sandra Bullock? She’s so good! Is she still acting or did she... fade out?” He’s almost afraid of the answer.

Alexis’s mouth drops open. “Oh. My. God. David? Prepare yourself.”

David spends the rest of the evening watching one of what Alexis promises will be many entertaining Sandra Bullock vehicles. She starts him off with _Speed_. David is in heaven. It’s a good distraction from the thoughts that keep returning to Patrick and those voicemails he left.

When David wakes up around noon, he has a missed call from Patrick and a voicemail. Heart pounding, David listens to the call.

_Hi, this is Patrick. Or is it David? Wow, did not expect to be getting a call from you. Or should I say 6 calls? I… can’t imagine what you’d need my help with, but if you want you can come to my office on 3587 Yonge St., I have some availability this afternoon. Okay… ciao._

God. David’s stomach flip flops at the teasing and at Patrick’s willingness to help him. He listens to the message again so he can write down the address. And then he goes in search of Alexis, so she can show him how to use the Uber thing again.

The receptionist at the front desk of the tall skyscraper directs David to Elevator B and instructs him to go up to the 13th floor. Once there, David finds another receptionist.

“I’d like to speak to Patrick Brewer, please.”

“Sure. He has some availabilities this afternoon,” the woman says. “What’s your name?”

“David Rose,” he says nervously.

“David Rose?” she repeats in shock. “Oh, of course, I don’t know how I didn’t recognize you! I’ll let him know you’re here.”

David stares at her. Had Patrick mentioned him? Or is he -- do people know him? Is his name recognizable?

A minute passes with David sort of hovering near the chairs but unable to sit down. When he sees movement, he looks over and knows he’s looking at Patrick, even though the man before him is 17 years older than he was yesterday. It’s the eyes.

“ _David_?” Patrick says, from a few feet away. His eyes are incredibly wide.

“Oh my god, Patrick,” David grits out, eyes welling with tears. “I can’t - you don’t know how - oh my god.”

Patrick’s eyes knit in concern. “Hey, come on. Come to my office.”

David nods, throat dry, and follows Patrick down a long corridor to an office. Patrick opens it and lets David go first. David hovers with uncertainty again, but Patrick waves David to take the seat in front of his desk as he sinks into his own chair. 

He’s handsome. His outfit is boring, a blue button-down paired with dark blue jeans and a weird braided belt, but he looks really good. David takes Patrick in, and shifts in his seat when he realizes Patrick is taking him in, too.

“What are you doing here, David?” he asks softly, breaking the strange silence.

“Something’s happened. I didn’t know who else to go to,” David replies.

Patrick looks right at him, steadily. “I haven’t seen you in… I think it’s been 10 years now? At that Bell Media event? What could you possibly need _my_ help with?”

“Patrick, I fucked everything up,” he says tearfully. “Do you remember that Wishing Dust you gave me for my 13th birthday?”

Patrick’s expression morphs into one of agitation. “Well, that’s the day you cut me out of your life, David, so yeah, I remember,” he says tersely.

David gawks at him, horrified, then buries his head in his hands before shaking off the emotion and facing Patrick. “I’m so sorry. I - I used the dust you gave me and wished I was thirty, flirty, and thriving. And then I woke up and I really _was_ thirty, but I - I don’t recognize this person,” he says, motioning to himself. “And I’ve completely fucked up my business, which I don’t remember creating, and I’m thirteen so I don’t know how to fix any of it!”

Patrick rears back in his chair partway through this rushed explanation, then stares at him with his eyebrows raised and his mouth ajar for the rest. “You - okay, you’re blaming your lousy behaviour all these years on the Wishing Dust I gave you seventeen years ago?”

“Patrick, please!” David begs. “I swear I’m telling you the truth. The last thing I remember before I woke up yesterday was telling you to leave after the Six Chicks stood me up. Yesterday, you were my best friend, and today… apparently we’re strangers.”

Patrick shakes his head. “This is a ridiculous story, David.”

“It’s not a story!” David says, his voice rising higher in his desperation. “You put my gift by my bedroom door! And that night, I wished I was thirty, flirty, and thriving, and then I… I don’t know how, but I woke up in the future.”

Patrick scrubs at his face with his hands. “No. No, it’s - this doesn’t make sense. The gift was a joke. There’s no such thing as Wishing Dust.”

“What do I have to do to get you to believe me?” David says, throwing his hands up in frustration. But he takes a deep breath, willing himself to calm down. He should be adult about this; acting like the emotional teenager that he is won’t help at all. “Look, I’m sorry I got so mad at you that day. I was - I was embarrassed that no one showed up to my party except you, and that my parents had forgotten my birthday again, so I took it out on you. But I can’t believe I didn’t _talk_ to you again. You were my best friend! What was I thinking?”

Patrick bites his lip. “Did you get all of this from one of your romcoms or something? Is that why you just called me up out of the blue years after you cut me out of your life, when I tried over and over again to get you to talk to me, and what? You’re here to feed me some wild story to make me feel bad for you after all this time?”

David jumps to his feet. “I came here for help because my company is going to go bankrupt because I am thirteen years old and I don’t know what I’m doing. And clearly 30-year-old David didn’t know what he was doing either because he owes back taxes and wrote off a bunch of business expenses he wasn’t supposed to, whatever that means. Also, apparently I become a total monster of a human being in the future, so I was hoping that reaching out to the one bit of good I can remember might help. But obviously I hurt you, and I just - I’ll go. I’m sorry.”

David can’t look back as he leaves Patrick’s office, doesn’t have the courage to see what Patrick’s face is doing after all of that.

He’s waiting at the elevator when Patrick bursts around the corner. “Wait,” he says breathlessly. David stares at Patrick, his own heart pounding wildly, and then Patrick sighs. “Come on. I’m not saying I believe you, but I can at least help with the business stuff.”

Patrick sorts through the paperwork David’s brought with him. ( _“This would be way easier if it was online and I could just do a quick search of everything.” / “The last computer thing I remember was having dial-up internet, Patrick.”_ ) David busies himself looking around Patrick’s office, at the rather uninspired decor. He finds a couple of photos on a small table between two tall chairs near the window. There’s one of Patrick with his parents; he’s wearing a cap and gown so it must have been taken at his graduation. And there’s another photo, in which Patrick is standing next to a beautiful woman who’s kissing his cheek, their faces pink and windswept, both of them smiling.

“Um, who’s this…?” David can’t help asking. “Your wife?”

Patrick looks up, and after a long pause says, “Fiancée. We’re… we’re actually getting married next month.”

“Oh, that’s nice!” David says. “What’s her name?”

“Rachel. We, uh, we met in high school and we’ve been together since.” David looks over and Patrick sort of inclines his head. “Well, actually, we haven’t been together the entire time. We broke up a few times, but we’ve always kind of fallen back into it. She’s my best friend.”

David nods, his stomach fluttering strangely at the sense of loss he can feel opening up inside him. Patrick used to call David his best friend.

It’s weird to think about Patrick getting married when just a few months ago they were talking about dream weddings like it was so far off in the future. He knows Patrick will be a great husband because he’s been an amazing friend. In fact, David’s realizing he never really appreciated how unwaveringly loyal and supportive Patrick’s always been.

Rachel is lucky.

“That’s great, Patrick,” David says, putting aside his sadness at his future self for failing so badly that he lost Patrick as a friend. “I’m happy for you. You seem really happy.”

“Yeah.” Patrick looks down at the papers spread out before him and clears his throat. “Okay, well, I think I can help you with this. I’ll do it for free, since I can see that things are really tight right now.”

“Okay, why would you do that?” David asks, finally coming to sit in the chair he was in before.

“I’m… starting to believe you,” Patrick says.

David can’t help but smile. “You are?”

Patrick smiles back and shrugs. “You… seem like him. Like _that_ David. The few times I’ve crossed paths with you in the interim, you’ve seemed… hardened, vacant, kind of callous.”

“You know,” David teases, “you’re lucky I’ve been trained to understand complex vocabulary from a young age with my mother, or else you’d have to use some words a 13-year-old could understand.”

Patrick laughs. “Yeah, your mother was always quite the character. How is she? And your dad?”

David shifts in his seat. “I have no idea. Alexis tells me I cut them out of my life. Kind of a running theme.”

Patrick’s eyes widen. “Wow.”

David nods in agreement. “Yeah, I was surprised. I mean, a little bit. They’re kind of terrible.”

Patrick pinches his lips together and nods minutely. “They… weren’t stellar, no.”

“But to cut them off? Like, what could have been so bad?” David asks both Patrick and himself. Then he shakes off that mystery for later. “Anyway, thank you for agreeing to help.”

“No problem,” Patrick says easily. “Have you had lunch?’

“I have not,” Davis says, eager.

So, they get lunch. Patrick brings him to a diner within walking distance of his office. “The food at this place is moderately edible,” Patrick says when they’re seated. “I’m not sure it’ll suit your expensive taste, but it’s not terrible.”

David smiles grimly. “I wouldn’t trust my taste,” he says, meeting Patrick’s gaze. “Apparently my taste led me to drop you all those years ago.”

Patrick looks away and takes a sip of his water. “Hey, we were kids. It’s not a big deal.”

“That’s no excuse, and it is a big deal,” David insists. “Obviously I don’t remember what made me decide I should stop talking to you, but that was fucking stupid and I’m sorry.”

They’re interrupted by the waiter, who takes their order. Patrick suggests the mozzarella stick platter and David eagerly agrees with a warm feeling in his chest. That’s their thing.

When the waiter is gone, Patrick clears his throat. “Seriously, don’t worry about it. Water under the bridge.”

“Stop it, you’re being way too adult about this,” David admonishes, and Patrick laughs. David frowns. “What happened to me to make me this… terrible person?”

Patrick stops fiddling with his fork to meet David’s gaze firmly. “You’re not terrible, David,” he says, his eyes familiarly empathetic. After a long pause, he says, “Honestly, I don’t actually know a whole lot. I tried to reach out to you those first few months after your birthday but you wouldn’t take my calls and whenever I came over, you stayed in your room. I didn’t hear from you at all, didn’t really even see you again until you got a modelling contract for Valentino when we were 15, and then your face was everywhere.”

“I was a model? For Valentino?” David gasps, completely floored.

Patrick nods. “I don’t know how long you did that; the last thing I remember is that your website blew up a few years back and you got… pretty famous. I’ve seen you around at events here and there.” Patrick smiles at David’s dumbstruck expression. “You know, I meant what I said before. When I’ve seen you… or, the other you, I guess… you’ve always seemed detached, not like I remember you. This is nice, to see you like this again. You’re more like the enthusiastic and expressive David you were back then, you know?”

David’s not sure he does know, but he nods anyway. “Thank you for telling me.” He smiles sadly, then takes a deep breath to stop himself from tearing up. “I _am_ a terrible person, though. I… I’m dating a guy who’s _married_ , Patrick. That’s, like, textbook terrible.”

Their food arrives, which gives David something to distract himself from the shame he feels about the adult version of himself. He takes a bite of a mozzarella stick and it’s almost good enough to cheer him up. Almost.

Patrick doesn’t start eating right away. Instead, he leans forward. “David? If there’s anything I can offer you in terms of adult wisdom from actually living these years instead of skipping ahead, it’s that people are complicated. We don’t always make the best choices. And there are very complicated reasons we don’t make the best choices.”

Patrick takes a moment to eat a couple mozzarella sticks, and David can’t help but watch him. There’s still so much of young Patrick in this older version of him, the kind eyes and the sweet smile. It’s comforting to know that even if David has changed so much, Patrick at least has remained a steady and thoughtful person who knows just what to say to David to make him feel better.

Still, what Patrick’s said makes David frown a bit as he processes it. “Okay, but there’s no excuse for being the person someone is cheating with.”

Patrick chews some more, expression thoughtful. “Maybe, but I’m not talking about excusing someone’s actions, just trying to understand them. The other you had his reasons, and they might not even be good reasons but knowing why you’re doing something that doesn’t feel right can help you make a better choice next time.”

After a few sips of his milkshake, David shrugs. “Yeah, but if I’m just this version of me forever, that other David isn’t here to make a better choice. I have to live with all the dumb things he did.”

Patrick laughs, wagging his head back and forth. “Okay, yeah, that part I have no wisdom for. This whole thing definitely makes no sense at all.”

David laughs, too, and holds up a mozzarella stick. Patrick grins and taps it with one of his own.

-

They meet over lunch all week. It’s almost like no time has passed; they make each other laugh, tease one another, and steal food from the other’s plate.

Patrick catches him up on his parents.

“They’re so excited about the wedding. More excited than I am,” Patrick admits over a lunch of sushi.

David tells him what he’s learned about his own parents from Alexis.

“Apparently they paid someone to date me, and that was the last straw. I got my trust fund at 21, and Alexis says I used a chunk of it to get _Poise_ up and running. And I haven’t talked to them since.”

Patrick makes a sympathetic face. “I mean, that was a pretty awful thing for them to do. Are you going to reach out to them?”

“I think so,” David says. “I don’t know what I’ll say, though. From their perspective, I took the money they gave me and shut them out of my life, even if what they did was bad. They might not want to hear from me.”

Patrick gives his hand a gentle pat where it’s resting on the table. “I wanted to hear from you.”

“Yeah, but you’re _you_ ,” David says. “Us Roses are not so forgiving. You’ve always been a nice person.”

Patrick smiles. “Thank you, David. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re a good person.”

Wait. David narrows his eyes. “Mmm, it’s just that I said nice person.”

“I know,” Patrick says brightly.

David curls his mouth to the side. “I just need you to say nice person.”

“You’re a _good_ person,” Patrick teases.

“That’s not nice.”

Really, how could Other David have ever decided he didn’t want this person in his life anymore?

-

Patrick comes to David’s office three times that week to straighten out the business aspects of _Poise_. He’s friendly with everyone, which gives David deja vu for what it’s like to be friends with the universally beloved Patrick Brewer.

David has dinner with Alexis on a nightly basis, so he’s beginning to develop a routine. David is also having to contend with Brad’s daily messages about ‘meeting up.’ He ignores Brad’s texts, and after the third night in a row of those texts and even a few calls coming in, as if Brad is desperate to see him, David caves over Thai noodles with Alexis and asks about him. He’s been putting it off since he knows he won’t like the story.

“Mmm, Brad,” Alexis says, momentarily putting down her chopsticks. “Ooh, yeah, you’ve done quite a number on him. I know a couple months back you mentioned he’d been talking about leaving his wife for you, and you were going to cut him loose but you managed to steer him away from that idea for the time being. I’d ask you how that’s going, but I guess you don’t know.”

David squirms uncomfortably. “Wait. I’m dating a married man who wants to _leave his wife for me_?” he breathes out, insides wriggling with guilt. “That’s awful!”

Alexis shrugs. “It’s kind of your thing, David. You flit from one person to another, always people that aren’t totally available, and you don’t really care what kind of damage you leave behind. No judgement! I used to do it, too, until I met Stavros.”

“Don’t get me started on Stavros,” David says darkly.

“Anyway,” Alexis says loudly, then more quietly, “I’ve tried to tell you it’s obvious you’re just getting rid of people as soon they get too attached, so you don’t actually have to connect with them, but you always kick me out when I say that, so I stopped.”

David feels tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. “So, what, I use people?”

“Yeah, but like, they use you too. Usually for the money or the connections.”

The tears spill over. “I don’t like that this is what I’ve become. I didn’t think it would look like this.”

Alexis pats David’s forearm. “Hey, come on. You gave me a job so I could meet my obligations for parole, and you’ve bailed me out of a lot of hot messes. Remind me to tell you about the time I went on a bad blind date and you had to come pick me up in Dubai.” David is not sure he wants to hear about that time, based on some of the stories Alexis has told him over the past few days. He wipes away the persistent tears, and Alexis squeezes David’s arm. “Like, you’re still my big brother, so don’t be too hard on him, okay?”

David shakes his head. “But you got arrested, Alexis! Obviously I wasn’t doing my job.”

“‘K, it wasn’t your job to, like, make me make better choices.”

Huh, there’s that better choices thing again. Patrick had talked about that the first day. It’s something to think about, but he still doesn’t understand why the other David hadn’t done more.

“It was a little bit my job,” David says finally, shaking his head. “At the very least, _I_ should have made better choices.”

-

David has been thirty for about a week and a half when he meets Rachel. Patrick is trying to work out if _Poise_ can be profitable enough to be attractive for Vox Media by next year.

“There’s no way _Poise_ will be acquired before then with all the taxes Other David owes,” Patrick says, which is how he’s been making the distinction between them.

There’s a knock on the door. Patrick gets up to go check.

“Oh, Rachel, hey.”

David whips his head around. There’s a woman standing in the office doorway, with long red hair and a super nice smile. She gives Patrick a brief kiss in greeting that looks comfortable and familiar, and she holds up a paper bag. “I brought lunch from Ben’s!”

“Oh, thank you,” says Patrick, and David can see Patrick rubbing the back of his neck from where he’s sitting by Patrick’s desk. It’s a telltale gesture that screams nervousness after years of watching Patrick lie about having done his homework so they could go play at the arcade or go for ice cream down the street. “Um, I was planning to work through it, actually.”

David gets up. “You have to eat, Patrick,” he says, shaking his head. “Have some lunch; we can finish up later.”

“Oh, hello! I’m so sorry to interrupt!” Rachel says.

“No, no!” David says, eager to meet Patrick’s fiancée. “You’re not interrupting.”

Patrick is still rubbing the back of his neck. Is he nervous that David won’t like Rachel? “Um, David, this is Rachel, my fiancée. Rachel, this is my old friend, David Rose. I’ve been helping him with his business.”

“Oh, wow, it’s so nice to meet you!” she says, smiling and shaking his hand. “I read about you in _Forbes_ ’ 30 Under 30! And your interview with _Vanity Fair_ was amazing.”

David laughs in a way he hopes isn’t awkward, since he is unaware he made the _Forbes_ list, and he certainly can’t remember any interview with _Vanity Fair_ ( _holy shit!_ ). “Right, right, that interview,” he says, nodding aggressively. “Thank you.”

Rachel elbows Patrick playfully. “Patrick here never mentioned he was friends with David Rose. Unforgivable, really.”

David tries not to be too disappointed that Patrick hasn’t mentioned him before; there’s no reason he should have, after all.

Patrick is rubbing his neck again. He’s probably trying to figure out how to explain the bizarre situation they’re in. David does some quick thinking. “Well, you know Patrick,” David says conspiratorially, not at all sure how he’s going to continue that sentence.

But Rachel laughs, smiling at Patrick like he’s hung the moon. “You’re right, way too much integrity to mention he’s friends with a celebrity.”

David laughs a bit too hard at that, from sheer relief that she’s managed to save him from his own dumb mouth and from discomfort with the thought of himself as a celebrity. “I don’t think I’m a celebrity. It’s not like I’m Jonathan Taylor Thomas.” David knows immediately that his example of a celebrity has struck her as strange based on her expression, so he clears his throat. “Anyway, I’ll get on out of here so you two can have some quality time together with your lunch. Nice to meet you, Rachel.”

Patrick seems to come out of whatever nervous stupor he’s been in. “Oh, right. Okay, I’ll stop by your office tomorrow and we can hammer out this plan.”

“Sure,” David says. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thank you!” Rachel replies. “Nice to meet you.”

-

Rachel seems like a good match for Patrick. She clearly has a sense of humour and she’s nice and smart. No wonder Patrick is marrying her. And really, no wonder she’s marrying Patrick. David has often thought, over the years, that Patrick’s the sort of person David would want to marry, someone nice and sweet and someone who will put up with his stupid tantrums and weird family drama.

But it occurs to him as they get to the two-week mark before the wedding that Patrick doesn’t really talk about Rachel or the wedding, unless it’s something logistical like the time he couldn’t meet because he had to go to a final fitting for his suit or the time he had to cut lunch short because he needed to call the florist. Both times, he hadn’t seemed all that excited about it.

David’s known Patrick for 7 years (24, if one wants to be technical about it). He’s pretty well-versed at reading Patrick, just as Patrick can read him, and Patrick is not great about offering up how he’s feeling. He needs David to press him before he starts talking.

As usual, David’s business is not the topic of conversation over their pasta lunch.

“And that’s why I don’t recommend party shots,” Patrick concludes, grinning and grimacing all at once.

David snickers. In the pause between this topic and whatever will come next, Patrick receives a text. He glances at it, then turns his phone over so it’s lying face down.

David nods toward it. “Did you need to answer that?”

Patrick shakes his head. “Just my mom with another wedding question. I can answer later.”

“Oh my god,” David says, as it hits him. “You’re getting married in two weeks!”

“Yeah,” Patrick says. “So, hey, what are you and Alexis doing for the weekend?” Patrick starts twirling his spaghetti but not actually eating it, and David recognizes this and the subject change for the avoidance tactics they are.

“Hey.” David puts his fork down, which is a sacrifice because the pasta is very good. “You want to get married, right?” he jokes.

Patrick looks shocked by the question and then, abruptly, scared by it. “What do you--? Rachel’s amazing. She’s brilliant, almost done with her residency. She’s great! I - I’d be an idiot _not_ to want to marry her.”

David feels his eyebrows rocketing up. “A simple yes would have been acceptable,” he teases.

But Patrick doesn’t look like he’s in the mood to be teased. He’s shifting restlessly and not looking at David. It seems Patrick is not finding this topic light and funny like David had expected him to. “Yes, I want to. We’re getting married in two weeks. Of course I want to,” Patrick says. He laughs, but it’s hollow and edged with tension and something else that David can’t parse. “It’s not like I can back out now.”

David tilts his head to the side, watching Patrick take a sip of his water in a way that he thinks is supposed to be nonchalant. He frowns as he considers what Patrick’s just said, and the implication behind it.

“You know you actually can back out, right? If you wanted to?” David asks as gently as possible. Patrick looks like a skittish horse about to spook, hence the softness.

Patrick scoffs. “Showing your age there, David,” he says dryly. “Adults don’t just back out of a wedding with two weeks to go, when everything’s set and the guests are gonna be arriving, and everyone would be crushed. It - it would be unbelievably cruel, and there’s - that’s just not something that can happen outside of one of your unrealistic romcoms, okay?”

David feels immediately defensive. “Well, seems like you got this all figured out without my dumb kid input.” He takes money out of his wallet and puts it down on the table and leaves before he can change his mind.

He’s rattled and unable to do any work once he gets back to the office. He takes his messages from Lucy and heads to his office, determined to be productive and useful, even if he is thirteen and stupid.

It’s hard to shake the terrified expression on Patrick’s face. Maybe he shouldn’t have joked like that, but he thought it would break the tension and help Patrick open up a little bit.

David is watching a YouTube video of a kid coming out of anesthetic after a trip to the dentist, which was on a list of Must-See internet videos, when Patrick appears behind the glass door and knocks. David closes his laptop and waves him in.

Patrick doesn’t say anything until he’s sitting across from David, the desk between them. Then Patrick sighs. “I’m sorry. I was a real jerk.”

David shakes his head. “No, I shouldn’t have asked you that. I figured it would be a jokey thing and you’d just be like, duh David, obviously. I didn’t mean to stress you out when you’re probably already really stressed about making sure the wedding is perfect.”

Patrick rubs his neck. “I shouldn’t have lashed out like that, though. You didn’t deserve that. I think I’m just nervous about everything.”

“Well, of course you are,” David says reasonably. “I know I’d be a nervous wreck for my wedding.”

Patrick smiles suddenly. “Hey, remember your dream wedding book?” he asks, a faraway look in his eye.

David rolls his eyes. “Okay, for you that was, like, decades ago, but for me you discovered that thing about six months ago and teased me mercilessly for weeks.”

Now Patrick’s grinning. “Oh yeah. Well, can you really blame me, David? You said you wanted your wedding song to be that Mariah Carey one…”

“Fantasy? Yes, well, I also said I wanted to _marry_ Mariah Carey, so maybe we don’t have to be so critical of the dream fantasy wedding book. Anyway, I seem to remember you saying something about how when you got married, there’d be a 12-layer cake. Is that happening, Patrick?”

“13, actually,” Patrick says with a wink.

That makes David blush for some reason but he recovers quickly by opening his laptop and turning it towards Patrick. “Hey, have you seen this video of a kid high on anesthetic after the dentist?”

Patrick laughs. “Everyone’s seen it, David.”

“Come on! I want to be able to show someone a viral video they haven’t seen before. Okay, what about this one where the lady stomps on the grapes and falls?”

Patrick laughs at him again.

-

One night, David invites Patrick over to watch _The Lake House_. He’s watched it twice already, can’t believe how blessed he is to have such a film in his life. Alexis is out with someone called Klair, so it’s just the two of them. David already stocked up on mall pretzels so they’re ready to go on the food front.

Patrick spends part of the movie making fun of the premise, but he starts to pipe down at one point, and David grins smugly at him because there’s no denying the chemistry of Sandra Bullock and Keanu Reeves and the admittedly murky but undeniably romantic plot.

“So?” David says expectantly at the end.

Patrick nods reluctantly, clearly trying not to smile. “Yeah, okay, it wasn’t bad.”

“Wasn’t bad,” David scoffs. “You’re just biased against romcoms. Always have been.”

Patrick smiles mischievously. “Yes, and you have always been unwavering in your uncompromising vision of what movies we should watch.”

“Okay, I compromise all the time,” David defends himself.

Patrick presses his lips together and snorts. “Sorry, I was just mentally flipping through all those times you compromised.”

“What about that time I compromised on the location of our lemonade stand?” David volleys back.

“You mean, when you let me choose between the driveway or the sidewalk in front of the driveway?” Patrick retorts. “Just so that you know, making someone choose between two things that you want is not exactly a compromise.”

David doesn’t know what to make of the strange swooping sensation in his belly at all this familiar teasing. They need a change of pace, which is why David comes up with a great idea.

“Alexa, play Tina Turner’s The Best.”

Patrick bursts into laughter. “Oh my god!” He obviously remembers the day David had coordinated an impromptu dance party in the Brewers’ basement, when they’d spent hours making up their own stupid dance moves to a bunch of songs.

“Come on,” he calls to Patrick, purposely dancing in a ridiculous manner to make Patrick laugh and beckoning to him with a finger.

Patrick gets up, his movements awkward and his face very red at first, but gradually he’s less stiff and more open. And soon they’re belting the lyrics and dancing and laughing hysterically, and when it’s over they collapse into the couch, cackling and out of breath.

David looks at Patrick’s laughing face and carefully does not react when he realizes quite suddenly that he wants to kiss Patrick. He wants to kiss that grin right off his face, see if Patrick will blink away at him like he does whenever David shocks him (a frequent occurrence). But more likely, Patrick will recoil.

It’s an epiphany that makes David drop his gaze to Patrick’s mouth, and then David startles and jumps to his feet with a stammered excuse about using the bathroom. Once there, he looks at himself in the mirror, at his aged face, pale with the rush of memories surfacing. Memories of little moments that didn’t make sense before; the butterflies and the way he’s always obsessed about what Patrick will think and say, about a romcom or an outfit or an idea that David’s had.

David imagines physically forcing the burgeoning feelings deep down somewhere. Patrick is engaged. David is not gonna be like Other David. Not that Patrick would ever kiss him back anyway. He definitely doesn’t feel the same way. And even if he did, Patrick would never cheat on Rachel because he’s a good person, unlike David.

David pulls himself together so he can go back out and pretend his whole world hasn’t completely shifted.

-

It becomes increasingly clear that Other David has spent nearly all of the money he got from his trust fund. There’s enough to pay for his apartment and his bills for another year, but that’s about it.

“You owe about 40,000$ in back taxes,” Patrick reluctantly informs him over lunch and paperwork one afternoon.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” David moans pitifully, clapping a hand over his mouth and staring at Patrick over it. “I’m so fucked.”

“Maybe not,” Patrick says. “I think there’s a way we can work this out. Even though _Poise_ is cash poor, you have good brand recognition. I think it would be attractive to a _Buzzfeed_ type of website. They might be interested in buying the name and rights to your content.”

“ _Buzzfeed_?”

That distracts them for a while, Patrick showing David several quizzes, and they soon find out which Spice Girl they each are and which kind of bread.

Eventually, Patrick gets them back on track. “I think _Buzzfeed_ actually might be interested in buying you up, but not yet. If you can pay those back taxes and show you’re not a financial liability, I think you’ll get a big payout.”

“But how am I gonna pay those back taxes?”

Patrick grimaces. “You’re not gonna like it.”

Patrick is not wrong, but it’s also the only option he has, which is what brings him to his parents’ house. The house is exactly as he remembers it. There isn’t a single thing that’s different. He rings the doorbell, heart thundering in his chest, and after a minute or so the door opens.

There’s a housekeeper he doesn’t recognize on the other side of the door. “Hi, are my parents here?” he asks.

Her eyes widen and she opens the door for him. “They’re having dinner.”

David nods. “Thank you.”

Heart pounding, David walks into the cavernous dining room, where his parents are seated at either end. They’re dressed to the nines as always. David clears his throat. Johnny and Moira start and their faces register surprise and disbelief. He nervously approaches and hesitates at the table.

“Son,” Johnny greets him, his voice overcome with emotion. David sucks back his own and swallows thickly. “Come, we’ll make a plate for you.”

Moira motions him over and David approaches carefully, but she just pulls him into a tight hug. David inhales her perfumed scent and bites his lip on a swell of emotion.

When he’s sitting, a plate of fancy food in front of him, David clears his throat. “I’m sorry.”

“No, son,” Johnny says. “You were right. We’ve thought a lot since you were here last time, and we regret making you feel… unsupported and - and tricked.”

David glances between them. “Last time?”

“Well, when you were here last month,” Johnny says slowly, eyebrows knitted. 

“We have been anxiously awaiting your presence,” Moira announces, “as you absolutely eschewed any method with which to reach you.”

David takes a bite of his food. Like the house, his parents are so very similar. And yet, it seems they might have changed.

“We were getting worried,” Johnny says.

“Well, I… became very busy with my business,” David says, treading carefully. “I’ve… run into some financial trouble.”

“Yes, you mentioned last time,” Johnny says, slow as ever as he appears increasingly confused. “And the check has been here ready to go, but you never came back for it.”

“The check!?” David winces at his own volume. “What do you mean check?”

Johnny and Moira exchange a look. Then Moira cuts in. “Have you been venturing into the world of hallucinogens again, dear? You know the impact they can have on memory. What have I always said about it? Never! Never without proper training.”

David is speechless. “So, I came here already… last month… and asked you for money?”

Johnny looks extremely concerned now. “Yes, David. You were sitting right where you are now. I seem to recall you had a critique about the quality of the caviar.”

David shakes his head, flabbergasted. Other David had swallowed his pride and approached his parents for a handout, after basically taking their money and then cutting them off? And they had agreed to give him the money?

David can’t help himself, his voice small. “Why did you agree to give me the money?”

Johnny and Moira exchange another look, this one pained. When Moira speaks, her voice is emotional in a way David’s never heard it before. “We always anticipated that you might one day attempt to reconnect. There may have been doubt as well, but always hope.”

Johnny continues. “We regret that we lost so much time with you, son. We shouldn’t have meddled so much to make up for our failures.”

David feels his lip trembling, shocked and moved by their candor and regret. “Thank you,” he whispers.

After dinner, with the check in his wallet and his parents off to drink martinis in the lounge, David wanders up to his bedroom.

He searches his old belongings with a strange detachment from them, even though this room was his just a few weeks ago. His old clothes seem silly from his vantage point of quick growth in this short space of time.

In his wardrobe, David finds a box of items that are simultaneously from his old life and from his recent memory. An old Barbie he’d given a grunge makeover, a collection of coins and buttons, a sewing kit, and one thing he’s somehow forgotten about in the hectic life he’s been leading, something that he cannot be detached about.

It’s the drawing Patrick gave him on his 13th birthday. The drawing of the park where they met, the two of them swinging. David smiles, dragging his fingers along the sleek frame, but the crack in the corner of the glass pane, spidering across the top section, makes his heart pang with a deep sadness. When had he broken this?

Yet again, David finds he is furious at himself for not appreciating the unwavering presence of Patrick in his life. He puts the drawing in his bag and heads out, the flurry of butterflies in his stomach taking up their increasingly usual space as he thinks back to the look that had been on Patrick’s face when David had opened his present. The look of warmth and vulnerability that David had been too wrapped in his own self-interest to notice.

He’s running out of time.

-

The day before the rehearsal dinner, Patrick spends hours in David’s office, putting the finishing touches on the final details of the _Buzzfeed_ deal. After he hangs up, Patrick announces that he just needs to file some final paperwork and David will be set to go. They’ve officially made a deal with _Buzzfeed_ to merge the _Poise_ brand into their site and they’re willing to do it in 6 months as long as the finances are in order. They’ve agreed to acquire _Poise_ for 1 million, in exchange for taking on David’s employees so they aren’t left with nothing.

The news is exciting enough that they hug. It’s a long hug, just long enough for David to really soak in Patrick’s warmth and support and kindness. Should he tell Patrick now?

David pulls away, brushing aside the butterflies. He is not going to be _that_ David, the selfish person he’s been for as long as he can remember.

It’s getting late, so they order a bunch of mozzarella sticks from three different places to compare them and crown a winner, soon enough completely stuffed and unable to eat even one more bite.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Patrick asks, putting on his jacket. David nods and starts pulling on his own.

David’s turning off his computer when Patrick drops his messenger bag. It thunks against the floor, and David looks over to find Patrick staring at the wall behind David, who follows his line of sight to see what Patrick’s looking at. It’s Patrick’s drawing, which David put on the wall the day after he got back from his parents’ house. He wanted a way to mark the changes he’s making to his life, the ways he’s fixing the mistakes he made in the past.

Patrick doesn’t pick up his bag. He wanders over to look at the drawing, his face open with a fondness David has to look away from.

“I found it at my parents’ house. It’s amazing. I had to have it in my office.”

Patrick breaks his gaze from the drawing and rubs the back of his neck. “It’s not amazing,” Patrick denies. “It’s nothing, it was a - a silly gift I gave you.”

“Patrick,” David says sharply, surprising Patrick and himself. He points at the drawing. “This is not nothing.”

Patrick looks down, his face fond and adorable again.

They end up walking around the city, both of them restless and eager to work off the greasy deliciousness. They pass by a park and then Patrick takes off at a run and vaults over the low fence, sprinting over to the swings. “Patrick!” David doubles over and clenches his knees, trying to contain his laughter since this is a park in a residential neighbourhood.

“Come on,” Patrick calls softly.

David doesn’t vault the fence, since he’s wearing Balenciaga. He takes his time and soon enough sits down in the swing beside Patrick in a dignified manner. “You’re being such a kid right now,” he says, grinning at Patrick.

Patrick grins back, then his smile softens in the setting sun. “I guess that’s something you brought back into my life. Something that I almost forgot about in my rush to grow up.”

“Hmm?” David pushes off the ground to start swinging, and Patrick follows suit.

“Just, having fun?” Patrick sighs. “Letting loose and not being so fixated on routines and work and the daily grind. I didn’t notice until that night we watched _The Lake House_. I can’t remember the last time I felt like that. Carefree.”

Just the memory of it makes David’s stomach swarm with butterflies again. David stops swinging as he thinks about what Patrick’s just told him, how heartbreaking that is. Patrick continues swinging, oblivious.

“It’s funny,” David says quietly. “When we were kids, it was always you doing that for me. Pulling me out of my comfort zone and making sure I was having fun sometimes instead of taking myself too seriously all the time. I think Other David didn’t realize that. And maybe this needed to happen so I could… I don’t know, figure out what really matters to me.”

Patrick is what matters to him. More than anything.

“Can I tell you something?” David asks nervously, his stomach in knots but his heart intent on revealing itself before he can lose his nerve.

“Of course,” Patrick says easily, swaying gently.

“I’ve realized something,” David confesses, blushing. “I think I just never let myself think about it before, but it’s impossible not to think back now. I’ve realized that I - I like you. As more than friends. I think maybe I did back then, too, but I didn’t know?” When Patrick stops swinging abruptly, David carries on stammering nervously. “I know it was all years ago for you, but it’s so weird that, like, a few weeks ago I had no idea how I felt and now… well, I just can’t believe I didn’t notice.”

Patrick clambors off the swing. He seems to be utterly speechless.

David starts babbling. “Oh my god, I shouldn’t have said anything. My stupid mouth. Look, it’s not a big deal, it was - it’s just an innocent little crush. Nevermind, let’s pretend I didn’t say anything.”

Patrick’s quiet for so long David stops babbling and gets off of his swing, too. When Patrick finally speaks, his voice is shaking. “The thing is, David, I knew exactly how I felt about you. I’ve been trying to ignore it these past few weeks with you back in my life. I always told myself back then that you didn’t feel the same way, and so I - I locked those feelings up, and - and I never told you how I felt, and now you’re telling me there was a whole other possible path I could have taken.”

David’s heart is beating in his chest at the prospect of Patrick’s feelings for him. This isn’t what he’d imagined would happen when he blurted this out. “What do you mean? You’re - you’re with Rachel! It doesn’t matter if you liked me back then. You’re on _this_ good path, right?”

Patrick groans into his hands, then straightens up and speaks forcefully. “David, when you just stopped talking to me, I was depressed for months. No, not months, it took me years to really get over you and what we had, and I always thought it was just me.” Patrick’s voice shifts, not angry but emotional. “I was going to ask you out on your birthday. It’s why I gave you that drawing, to show you how much you meant to me. And ever since you burst back into my life I’ve been thinking about how my reaction to you shutting me out was to just push my feelings away, and to tell myself that I’d made it all up in my head. So I made myself content with a life that seemed like a good alternative, and that’s what I’ve been doing… for _years_. But I’m not happy with this life; you’ve made me see that ever since you left those voicemails, and now you’re telling me it could have been different.”

David’s heart is thumping in his ears, his heart lifting. Patrick liked him. It seems impossible; David is someone to be brushed aside and forgotten and ignored, not liked and favoured. But maybe he’s had it all wrong. “Okay, well, if you feel the same way and you’re not happy, then don’t get married to Rachel! Let’s - let’s try.” Patrick’s shaking his head but David keeps talking quickly, his worry getting the better of him. “Patrick, if I could go back and change what I did, I’d go back and kiss you and tell you how I feel, and maybe you’d be marrying me right now.”

Patrick’s still shaking his head. “It’s too late,” he rasps out. He laughs humourlessly. “It’s too late to change what’s happened. I’m marrying Rachel in two days. And I - I don’t think we should keep talking after we finish settling the accounts. It’s not a good idea.”

David panics. “Patrick, please. It doesn’t have to be different! Just forget I said anything!” David urges him, shuffling forward to close the distance between them.

But Patrick steps back. “It’s too late,” he says again, and then he turns and walks away.

David calls after him, but it’s no use. He watches Patrick’s retreating form, and sorrow sets in as he realizes he’s responsible for this. For all of it. His selfish actions have affected so many around him, and this is no different. He’s just dropped a bomb in Patrick’s life.

David gets an Uber. He takes the tissue the driver hands him when he hears David sniffling in the back.

“Thank you,” David says when the driver pulls up.

He doesn’t have a key, but he checks the secret place and finds the old spare key from years ago that opens the side door. He goes right upstairs and crawls into his old bed, and he spares a thought for whether someone might have cleaned out the bedside table in all these years, but the Wishing Dust is still there. He takes out a handful and wishes to be back in 1996, to be 13 again.

To make better choices.

-

David opens his eyes and finds his old bedroom ceiling above him. He’s confused until it all hits him again: telling Patrick how he felt, Patrick telling him it’s too late…

David rolls on to his side and sits up quickly when he realizes his legs are too short. He’s wearing the same clothes he carefully picked out on his 13th birthday. It’s light out, and the doorbell is ringing.

David’s eyes well up. He has a chance to make it right, to become a version of himself that he can be proud of. He leaps out of bed and flies down the stairs. Adelina is at the door, and she scolds him gently for running on the stairs before smiling and leaving David to anxiously approach the door, hoping that it will be Patrick on the other side.

“David,” Patrick says as soon as he sees him. “I’m so sorry, David, I--”

“Shhh!” David shoves Patrick outside and closes the door behind them so they’re out on the front porch. “I never said thank you for your gift yesterday.”

He cups the back of Patrick’s neck with one of his hands and kisses Patrick, for just a few wonderful seconds before he pulls back. There’s a chance all of it was just a dream and that Patrick doesn’t feel the same way. But he has to try, consequences be damned.

Patrick blinks several times, then dives in for another kiss, his hands cupping David’s face.

This is the best choice he’s ever made.

“Thank you, David,” Patrick says breathlessly when they pull apart, his expression so deeply earnest.

“For what?” David asks, just as breathless.

“I left here yesterday without doing that,” Patrick tells him. “Thank you for making that happen for us.”

David presses his lips together and tilts his head up at the sky, grateful to whatever weird magic exists that made this happen. Then he shakes it off and smirks. “Well, fortunately, I am a very generous person,” David jokes. 

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Patrick teases, knocking his shoulder into David’s gently before he takes David’s hand and weaves their fingers together. David squeezes Patrick's hand, his heart bursting with joy, and they walk together back into the house.

-

A few hours later, David and Patrick are in the sun room playing Uno (Patrick is winning; David is pissed about it), when they hear the front door open, and David’s parents calling his name from the great hall. David gives Patrick a secret smile and tells him he’ll be right back.

They’re standing by the door holding a giant cake, Alexis sitting on the first step of the staircase to take her shoes off.

“You’re home early,” he observes.

“Did you presume that we forgot your special occasion?” Moira trills. “Our timing could not have been more perfect; just as we arrived, Alexis was delivered by the Dunstes. It’s a family affair!”

“My birthday was yesterday,” David says, keeping his voice even, the memory of their capacity for growth keeping his frustration at bay.

“We may be tardy, dear,” Moira says, shedding her heels and her jacket, “but we are ready to celebrate your grand day in style.”

“Happy birthday, son,” Johnny says brightly, clapping David on the shoulder.

David looks at the cake, where it says, ‘Happy Birthday, Davis!’ and ‘Welcome Home, Alex!’ and peers up at them. “What, did your flight get cancelled?” David asks shrewdly.

They’re tellingly silent for a few moments, and they exchange a guilty glance. “We don't know what you are talking about,” Moira denies.

“Now, what do you want for dinner, David?” Johnny asks with an awkward chuckle. “Whatever you want; it’s your party, as they say.”

“Pizza.” David smiles. “Can Patrick join us?”

Johnny claps his hands together. “Of course. You know he’s always welcome here. Well, Moira, let’s get settled in.”

They head upstairs, and Alexis grabs her suitcase to do the same but David stops her so he can pull her into a fierce hug.

She pats his back awkwardly. “Um, David. Did someone die?” she asks. “I think the last time you hugged me was for, like, the family photo last year? And you really complained about it.” David tightens the hug. “You know, it’s kind of hard to breathe.”

David makes an impatient sound. “Just let me hug you, okay?”

Alexis finally hugs him back. “Okay.”

David pulls away, then tugs on one of her braids and laughs when she scowls at him and shoves him away.

“Hey, Alexis?” he calls before she can mount the staircase. “Promise me you will stay far away from all guys named Stavros.”

~*~

“David, what is going on?”

“You’re wearing a blindfold. I’m not just gonna tell you what’s going on.” David stops them and strokes Patrick’s shoulders. He clears his throat. “Okay, you can take it off now.”

Patrick takes it off, and then he grabs David up in an enormous hug. “How did you do this?”

“I called them up and made an offer. And they accepted.”

The house is behind them. Their gazes are fixed on the park where they met, which is right across the street from the house in which they’re going to spend the rest of their married lives.

“But we tried!” Patrick says. “They said they were going with that other lame couple.”

“Don’t think that was an exact quote,” David teases. But then he smiles and pecks Patrick on the cheek. “I told them how much the view means to us. I told them that we met right there when we were 6, and we’ve been best friends ever since.”

Patrick sighs happily. “I’m glad they were suckers for a good love story. A story right out of one of your cheesy romcoms.”

David laughs and kisses his husband. “You have no idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
